


life's better with you in it

by Marks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Roommates, University, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21880207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: "We’re poor university students with terrible habits. You slept until one today. I only wash my sheets when you yell at me. And when was the last time we went grocery shopping? We’ve been living on nothing but instant ramen and Jagariko for months."Some things are inevitable: the moon and stars in the sky, university students living off cheap ramen, and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi in each other's orbits.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 60
Kudos: 485
Collections: Haikyuu Secret Santa 2019





	life's better with you in it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [speakingincode](https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakingincode/gifts).



> hey hey brandon it was a JOY getting to write for you. when i got this assignment, i didn't recognize your username/tumblr so it took me a minute to realize you're also one of my favorite tsukkiyama writers. i really hope you like this!
> 
> combining the requests: tsukkiyama, including akiteru, post-canon, every day scenes where they just hang out, with a touch of the moment where they realize they have a crush on the other one.
> 
> i also took a little inspiration from [this tweet](https://twitter.com/_missgloomy/status/1201272335493320704) about who in hq will be the relatable messes and a conversation i had with my friend gwen/brella after we cracked up over that tweet.
> 
> title from [this tweet](https://twitter.com/Lin_Manuel/status/1190470991614562305) from lin-manuela miranda:  
>  _Gnight.  
>  It’s better with you in it.  
> The night, the world.  
> It’s better cuz you’re here.  
> Sleep on it if it feels like too much.  
> Let it marinate, until it’s stronger than anything that tells you otherwise:  
> Life’s better with you in it._

Tsukishima hasn’t slept in 72 hours. It’s not a fun time for him, but his lab report is finally done and, hey, he now knows that he can taste colors. That’s a revelation. He stares at his laptop and hovers over the submit button, but he’s also second-guessing. What if the conclusions are wrong? What if he did all the calculations incorrectly? What if his observations were inaccurate? What if the hypothesis is shit? Tsukishima’s panic is working backwards, a metallic tang at the back of his mouth.

Oh, so he can taste panic, too. Cool. No, wait. Pathetic.

“Chemistry is a tough program, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi observes from the doorway. “At least you only have a little over a year to go.” He’s eating a bowl of instant ramen, which is no surprise because Tsukishima is almost positive it’s the only edible thing left in their apartment. When he slurps up the noodles, it makes a noise so loud and excessive that Tsukishima can almost hear his mother yelling about manners. He hasn’t changed his t-shirt in the 72 hours Tsukishima’s been awake. 

It doesn’t matter. Yamaguchi looks cute. Yamaguchi always looks cute.

Tsukishima pushes his glasses to the top of his head and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Kozume Kenma earned over a billion yen last year,” he says, apropos of nothing other than the fifteen excited text messages from Hinata in Brazil, describing the new gear his sponsor got him.

“That’s a lot of yen,” Yamaguchi says easily as Tsukishima fixes his glasses again. He walks into Tsukishima’s bedroom and puts down his bowl. Then he leans over the back of Tsukishima’s desk chair, caging him in, and casually submits Tsukishima’s lab report for him. “Done.”

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima says in what he hopes is the appropriate grateful and reverent tone.

“Come on.” Yamaguchi straightens up again and offers out his hands. “There’s more ramen for you in the kitchen. Then, you’re going to sleep. Future doctor’s orders.”

Tsukishima swallows hard and lets Yamaguchi pull him to his feet. Now he also knows that the crush he always keeps simmering in the background is harder to control when he’s been awake for 72 hours.

He clears his throat, trying to control himself. “You can’t give me doctor’s orders. Sports medicine doesn’t count,” he says, sounding almost normal.

“It does count and you’re an ass,” Yamaguchi says, fond. He picks up his bowl again and bumps Tsukishima with his hip. 

*

“Tsukki, do you think we have scurvy?”

Tsukishima’s eyebrows go up, but he doesn’t look away from his round of Super Smash Bros Ultimate. His Kirby is about to decimate the CPU’s Chrom, and he wants to watch his complete victory. “We don’t have scurvy,” Tsukishima says as Kirby inhales. “Doesn’t that make you lose teeth and stuff?”

“Yes, but it’s gradual! The absence of Vitamin C leads to the degradation of collagen and it starts out with general weakness and lethargy. Weren’t you saying how tired you were just yesterday?”

“I’m always tired.” Kirby knocks Chrom off the moving platform for the third time and Tsukishima’s victory lights up the screen. He puts down his controller, and turns around to look at Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi is lying flat on his back with his open Biochem book over his face, the pages covering his eyes and nose, and Tsukishima’s lips twitch at the sight of it. “We don’t have scurvy.”

“But we’re poor university students with terrible habits. You slept until one today. I only wash my sheets when you yell at me. And when was the last time we went grocery shopping? We’ve been living on nothing but instant ramen and Jagariko for months.”

“You love Jagariko,” Tsukishima reminds him.

“Yeah, but still.”

Tsukishima crawls over to Yamaguchi’s side and lifts the book from his face, tossing it to the side. Yamaguchi smiles up at him, guileless and soft. It would be so easy for Tsukishima to lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Instead, the thought makes his cheeks warm up and his eyes flicker away to the floor. He hears Yamaguchi sigh and it sounds a little wistful, but that’s probably his imagination.

“We can go grocery shopping,” Tsukishima says, sitting up again. “My parents just deposited some money into my bank account. Would you like that, Yamaguchi? We’ll buy a leafy green. Maybe a citrus fruit.”

“Wow, a whole citrus fruit,” Yamaguchi teases. “Are we limited to one orange?”

Tsukishima snorts. “Maybe I’ll buy you a Buddha’s hand if you ask really nicely.”

Yamaguchi sits up too, hooking his chin over Tsukishima’s shoulder. Tsukishima, despite himself, glances over at him and takes in the too-close profile of his face; it’s still nice making out a few blurry freckles, the outline of Yamaguchi’s perfect nose. “Mmm, Tsukki, can we get the weird horror fruit with too many fingers? Pretty please? So we don’t die of some weird old-timey sailor disease?”

“Well, since you asked like that.” Tsukishima laughs. He can feel the warmth of Yamaguchi’s chin through the thin material of his t-shirt, and he realizes he wants to keep that warmth with him for as long as Yamaguchi wants to stay. “You’d look terrible without teeth anyway.”

*

Akiteru is so happy to see both of them. Admittedly, they’ve been buried under a pile of exams and papers and playing video games until 2am and not doing the dishes often enough. They haven’t really gone out recently, but even given that, as always, his brother’s reaction is excessive. He lifts Yamaguchi off the ground and swings him around in a circle. When he puts him down again, Tsukishima holds both his hands up.

“ _One_ hug,” he says. “I said one hug. You got one.”

“Two hugs?” Akiteru asks. His eyes are wide and wet, like a kicked puppy’s. Tsukishima sighs, irritated, and opens his arms again.

“This is why we never play volleyball with you.” Tsukishima’s voice is a little strangled with the strength of his brother’s bear hug. “I need my ribs. I just got over scurvy.”

Akiteru lets go and tilts his head in confusion. “What?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Yamaguchi says. He shoots Tsukishima a glare, but there’s no heat behind it, and Tsukishima has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. “Tsukki’s joking. Hey, Akiteru,” Yamaguchi continues, and now the look he gives Tsukishima goes from embarrassed to wicked, “did you know that Tsukki has the highest grades in his whole program? They gave him an award.”

Tsukishima’s eyes go wide and he mouths _no_ at Yamaguchi.

“Really?” Akiteru says and, oh for god’s sake, his voice comes out shaky and watery. Here it comes. “My little brother!” he shouts as he barrels into Tsukishima for hug number three. Tsukishima pats Akiteru’s back as he sobs, mouthing _I’ll get you_ at Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi’s mischievous look blooms into a full-blown grin as he climbs into the front seat of Akiteru’s car.

*

The Neighborhood Association greets them like returning kings, which is both embarrassing and way too much of an exaggeration, considering they visit home whenever their schedules allow it. Sendai isn’t _that_ far away. But for whatever reason, the place is really hopping tonight. Most of the regulars are there — Sawamura, Takinoue, Coach Ukai — and even though the game hasn’t gotten underway, everyone is _loud_. Not classic Moron Duo loud, but still close.

Yamaguchi searches the room, up on his tiptoes as he cranes to look around. Tsukishima can’t help but smile at that; even in a room full of volleyball players, Yamaguchi’s 181cm still gives him a height advantage, but here he is on his toes. That could be because Tsukishima still has 12 centimeters on him and his behavior is borne out of habit, or maybe it’s because Yamaguchi is just the type of guy who naturally finds every advantage he can, anything to put him a little bit ahead. It’s admirable.

“What are you looking at, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asks, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“You, I guess,” Tsukishima says without thinking about it. “The tiptoes,” he adds, like it’s a good explanation.

Yamaguchi blushes and lowers himself to the ground again, which Tsukishima hopes isn’t his fault. He just thought it was cute, but it’s not like he can say that to Yamaguchi. He thinks he’s less of a pain now than he was when he was a kid, but that still doesn’t mean talking about his feelings has ever been easy. Maybe it never will be.

“Is Shimada-san coming?” Yamaguchi asks, turning to Akiteru. He isn’t letting Tsukishima look at his face anymore, but his new haircut is shorter than it’s been in years; Tsukishima can see that his ears are red, showing he’s still embarrassed. That’s cute, too — another bullet point on the list of things Tsukishima can’t say.

Akiteru nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ukai-san said he’s on his way. Last time I talked to him, he said you guys can have a battle of the float serves.”

Yamaguchi laughs and shakes his head. “It’ll be a terrible battle. I’m so rusty,” he says. “He’s better than me.”

“That’s funny,” Akiteru says, grinning. “He said the same thing about you.”

“Shimada-san is right,” Tsukishima says quietly, leaning down so Yamaguchi won’t miss it. “You’re better than him.” 

Yamaguchi’s ears, if anything, go redder.

*

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi wind up on the same team, even through Coach Ukai’s feeble protests. Tsukishima, no longer bound by coach-player propriety, says, “If we’re a good pair, it’s only down to the superior coaching we received.” Then he bows, which he knows is overkill, but Ukai is laughing and rolling his eyes when he straightens up again.

They win every set, playing together. They both might be sluggish after three years of nothing but casual play, but they still have youth and three trips to Spring High under their belts. When Yamaguchi serves and Tsukishima blocks, spear and shield as always, there’s nothing as exhilarating. Nothing else comes even close. 

Yamaguchi had been right all those years ago: getting good at something for no reason other than the pride that results is worth it. It’s definitely worth seeing Yamaguchi’s grin when they high five for the sixth time that night, right after their team wins their match.

(And Tsukishima is right, Yamaguchi’s float serve is _much_ better than Shimada’s. The student surpassed the master long ago.)

*

Akiteru insists on them all going out for drinks after. Tsukishima winds up as the default designated driver because he doesn’t like beer, but he also doesn’t begrudge his big brother his fun. He’d never say so out loud, but Akiteru has earned all the relaxed post-volleyball fun he wants, even if that means later on he’ll need to deal with Akiteru telling him he loves him until passing out. 

“You can drink more if you want,” Tsukishima says, gesturing to the beer that Yamaguchi has been nursing all evening. They’ve isolated themselves from the rest of the group, commandeering a table for themselves. “I’ll take you home after.”

Yamaguchi shakes his head. “I don’t really like beer,” he confesses. 

“Get something else then,” Tsukishima suggests. 

Yamaguchi shakes his head again. “I don’t really like anything else, either,” he says. “I just like you.”

Tsukishima blushes fiercely and stares down at the table. “Are you sure you’ve only had that one beer?”

“It’s just—” Yamaguchi exhales, loudly enough that Tsukishima can hear him even without looking. “Since we’re home, I’m going to my _house_.”

“Yes,” Tsukishima says, lifting his head to look at Yamaguchi again. He can never look away from Yamaguchi for long. “That’s generally how it works.”

“My house with my _parents_ ,” Yamaguchi continues. “Not with you.” He takes a deep breath and catches Tsukishima’s gaze. “I like going home with you better, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widen and he sucks in a breath, too. He may be bad at expressing his feelings, but he knows a monumental moment when he experiences one. 

Lots of his have involved Yamaguchi: devastation in the bleachers at a volleyball match; sodium lights painting them amber as Yamaguchi shook him and screamed; keeping Yamaguchi in a match against Seijoh when he first perfected his serve; screaming after a perfect block and overhearing Yamaguchi telling Sugawara-san that he knew all along that Tsukishima would ‘do something.’ 

Losing to Dateko their second year at Karasuno because he couldn’t save Yamaguchi’s returned serve, the wall too formidable. Third year with Kageyama and Hinata and Yachi, telling his Captain that he got them further than Karasuno had _ever_ gotten at Nationals. Moving day in the apartment, hoisting new furniture up stairs, stuff that wasn’t either of theirs but both of theirs.

Now.

“Well, it’s only two days,” Tsukishima says, somehow fighting the urge to look anywhere other than at Yamaguchi’s open expression. His face feels like it’s on fire. “I’ll take you home with me then.”

“Promise?”

“That’s fighting dirty, Yamaguchi,” says Tsukishima. “I don’t know how to break a promise to you.”

*

Tsukishima drives Yamaguchi home, after they both wrestle a drunk Akiteru into his own backseat. He’s slumped over to one side with his face smushed up against the window, but at least they managed to get a seatbelt on him. Tsukishima isn’t looking forward to getting him out of the car alone later on, but maybe the nap will help sober him up.

“It’s so impressive you have your license, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima glances over at him, shaking his head. “So you’ve told me,” he says. He pulls onto the road carefully, his lack of practice making him drive like a grandpa. Yamaguchi inexplicably still seems impressed. “Is driving really so cool?”

“Everything you do is cool,” Yamaguchi says easily, waving him off. “But, yeah, isn’t driving always cool? The freedom of the road, wind in your hair? It’s sexy.”

Tsukishima chokes on nothing, just barely not jerking the steering wheel. It would be exactly his luck, too; Yamaguchi calls something he does sexy, and then his awkward limbs send them both (plus Akiteru) careening off a mountain. The news will blame the horrors of drunk driving and Japan will raise the driving age from 18 to 50.

Okay, so maybe his imagination is getting the best of him.

“Cool cars might be sexy,” he manages to reply in a voice that sounds normal. “Like on a wide stretch of road near the beach. Not in Akiteru’s beat-up Nissan Note going the speed limit in your parents’ residential neighborhood.”

Yamaguchi shrugs, exaggerated enough that Tsukishima can see it out of the corner of his eye. “It’s still a little sexy.”

Tsukishima swallows. Opens his mouth and closes it. Opens it again. “What’s going on with you tonight?” 

Yamaguchi is quiet for a moment. The drive paints them both in alternate stripes of light and dark, the car ducking in and out of streetlights as Tsukishima navigates them past familiar houses. When Tsukishima glances over to see if Yamaguchi heard him, he has his hands folded in his lap as he taps his thumbs together, thinking.

Finally, Yamaguchi speaks: “Do you ever wish you did something different?”

“What do you mean?” Tsukishima asks carefully, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach.

“I don’t know,” Yamaguchi says. “Like, do you have any regrets, going to university in Sendai with me? Maybe you should have gone to school in Tokyo. Or moved to Brazil with Hinata. Or maybe started some weird YouTube channel where you review dinosaur movies.”

Tsukishima can’t help laughing. “You think I’d be good at YouTube?”

“Who knows, Tsukki? After all, Kozume Kenma made a billion yen last year,” Yamaguchi reminds him.

Tsukishima pulls the car in front of Yamaguchi’s house and puts the car in park. He glances back at Akiteru in the backseat; now, he’s stretched out along the length of it, still asleep with his mouth open and drooling. Tsukishima turns to Yamaguchi again.

“I don’t have any regrets,” he says. He bites his lip and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he considers his words. Yamaguchi watches him closely, and now that the car is in park, the light across his face isn’t due to some passing streetlight. It’s only the moon. “Listen, there was a time where I was headed straight toward a life full of regret, but someone pulled me back from that.” Tsukishima pauses. “I like my life. I like staying up way too late and not eating enough citrus fruit and kicking your ass at Mario Kart.”

“Hey,” protests Yamaguchi, but Tsukishima ignores him.

“I like it because you’re there. Do you really think I would be doing any better if you weren’t right beside me? Because I don’t.”

It’s as close to a confession as Tsukishima has ever gotten, and he knows it. He wonders if Yamaguchi knows it, too. He doesn’t want to hope too hard, but with the way Yamaguchi is looking at him right now, some mixture of intensity and fondness —

Well. Tsukishima isn’t lying. He really has no regrets.

“And you tell me _I_ fight dirty,” Yamaguchi says. 

“You do,” Tsukishima says.

Yamaguchi nods. “You’re right. I do,” he says, and then he leans over the console and kisses Tsukishima, right in front of his parents’ house and Tsukishima’s sleeping brother and the moon, too. Caught by surprise, all Tsukishima can do is close his eyes and kiss back, taking his hands off the steering wheel to run them through Yamaguchi’s short hair.

When Yamaguchi pulls away, Tsukishima tries following. There’s nothing cerebral about it, not a thought in his head. To Tsukishima, this comes naturally; where Yamaguchi goes, he wants to follow.

Yamaguchi opens the passenger side door and climbs out, but not before ducking back in and pressing one more soft kiss to Tsukishima’s waiting mouth. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Tsukki.” 

And then he grins, and Tsukishima finds himself grinning back. 

“Okay,” Tsukishima says as Yamaguchi shuts the car door behind him. He watches as Yamaguchi runs up the path to his parents’ house and lets himself inside. Then, he slumps down in his seat and touches his mouth. “What the hell?” he mutters to himself, but there’s no heat behind it. Yamaguchi kissed him, twice. He can’t stop smiling. What the hell.

“Were you just kissing Tadashi?” Akiteru mumbles from the backseat.

“Shut up, Nii-san,” Tsukishima says automatically, as he starts the ignition again.

*

“I’m definitely going to fail this class,” Tsukishima says, loud enough that Yamaguchi can hear him in the kitchen. His mouse hovers over the submit button on his laptop; his lab report has been done for an hour, but what if all his results are wrong? Déjà vu is real, and Tsukishima is living it. “Why did I decide to study chemistry again?”

Yamaguchi appears in the doorway, coming inside the room without asking. And why would he ask anyway? There’s as much of his stuff in Tsukishima’s room as there is in his own, and vice-versa. Not that he ever asked before, but that’s only because Yamaguchi’s secretly kind of rude. Cute and a good kisser, but secretly rude. Still, their mingled things means they probably can get a smaller place soon and save some money on rent. One bedroom and more leafy greens sounds pretty nice.

“Well, you’re a genius and it all has to go somewhere. But there’s still always the YouTube fall back plan,” Yamaguchi says, plonking a steaming bowl of instant ramen down on Tsukishima’s desk. “Think of all the fans you could have.” Then, he leans over Tsukishima’s back and submits his lab report for him. “There, all done. The dinosaur movie reviews will have to wait another day.”

“Oh no,” Tsukishima deadpans. He looks at the bowl of ramen, and tilts his face up so he can look at Yamaguchi’s face. “Do we need to go shopping again?”

“Of course,” Yamaguchi says. He shrugs and presses a kiss to Tsukishima’s forehead. “When don’t we?”

Tsukishima shrugs back. “Well, I’m all done with my work, so we could go right now. Or,” he says, and pauses.

“Or?” Yamaguchi echoes. He’s grinning now, making his freckled cheeks stand out even more. “Did you have something else in mind?”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima says. He stands up, turns around, and gets Yamaguchi in his arms. “We could also just stay here. Want to get scurvy with me?” 

Then he kisses Yamaguchi, warm and slow; it doesn’t matter how many times he gets to do that, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over getting to do that. When he lets Yamaguchi up for air again, they can’t stop smiling at each other.

“Anytime, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi says, pressing their foreheads together. “But if you lose your teeth, I’m leaving you for an orange salesman.”

“That’s fair,” Tsukishima agrees, and pulls Yamaguchi toward his futon. The ramen grows cold in the meantime, but who cares? There’s still so much time for them to get their life together, and they’ll get to do that together.

Just like always.

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/nonnonnegative) where i'm still frequently screaming about how in love tsukishima and yamaguchi are. (also if you like fire emblem and/or hypmic, too, have i got some good news for you!)


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